


Reflected in the Eyes of a Dragonfly

by theinconceivabletruth



Series: Ten Thousand Rivers Flow Into the Sea [4]
Category: Log Horizon, Naruto
Genre: Angst and Humor, Apprenticeship, Family Feels, Feelings, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Grieving, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Poetry, Just Add Ninjas, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 12:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21253187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinconceivabletruth/pseuds/theinconceivabletruth
Summary: Akatsuki has many things she wants to share with Kakashi. Some things are easy; some are difficult. Some are learning experiences for both of them.





	Reflected in the Eyes of a Dragonfly

**Author's Note:**

> Anything is subject for a poem: 
> 
> A catalog of boxing equipment, a collage of other poems, 
> 
> Serpentine trail of incense, raised deer fur, old shoes pointed pigeon-toed, 
> 
> Glass and steel cityscape, almond eyes of a saint, weeping of tiny flowers, 
> 
> Sunlight on whitewashed walls, blue shadows of stooped women, 
> 
> A sprung mousetrap, a trickle of blood in the gutter, 
> 
> The homing swoop of a gull, chill whitecapped bay, scent of eucalyptus. 
> 
> Green lawn of broken blades, clods of fat earth. 
> 
> Anything is subject for a poem. 
> 
> Even in sleep, write a poem. 
> 
> When waking, write a poem. 
> 
> While loving, write a poem. 
> 
> Even voting, write a poem. 
> 
> When angry, write a poem. 
> 
> While dreaming, write a poem. 
> 
> “Poetry,” 365 Tao: Daily Meditations, by Deng Ming-Dao

In some aspects, training and teaching Kakashi was the most natural thing in the world. He was a quick learner and a hard worker. Often all Akatsuki had to do was share her passion. In others…

“Poetry is  _ stu_pid.” 

Well. Sometimes Akatsuki wanted to tear her hair out. She knew that Kakashi could read and write quite well for a boy his age, and the first poem she had chosen was simple. “If there is a character you don’t know yet-”

“I know the characters!” Silence. “It’s just about stupid flowers, and ponds, and frogs. What’s the point? It doesn’t say anything that’s not right in front of your face!” 

“Is there listening deeper than your opinions?” Sue her, Akatsuki was getting a bit exasperated. 

“What does that even mean?” Kakashi sulked. 

Akatsuki contemplated how to approach this. She could start with the many ways a poem could hide double meanings and messages, but if that came first, she didn’t think she could refocus Kakashi on the other skills that poetry was important in building. It had taken her a long time to grasp herself - Ah. Akatsuki wanted to hit herself. Yes, Kakashi understood all of the words, but what six year old wanted to be cooped up inside with dusty scrolls all day? Or even for fifteen minutes? 

Akatsuki put down her own scroll. “Kakashi-kun, let’s take a walk.”

Walk was perhaps not the right word for how they lept and climbed across the town of Akiba. Akatsuki took them to a vantage point above the main market street. She pointed to a pastry stall that had just set out a fresh batch of tarts and was now bustling with activity. “Describe it to me. Use as many words as you can.” 

Rolling his eyes, Kakashi began listing adjectives and adverbs. After a few, he stopped, testing to see if that was enough.

“Keep going.” He had barely scratched the surface. 

Kakashi rolled his eyes again but continued, starting to pause between his words as he struggled for each new set. He was beginning to get frustrated now. He kept glancing at Akatsuki, trying to get a read on when he could stop. 

When she judged that Kakashi was two attempts from straight up quitting, Akatsuki said, “Very good. Now, choose the words that describe it best.” Kakashi muttered “stupid” under his breath. Akatsuki ignored him. “You may choose up to five words.” 

Kakashi didn’t think very long, trying to get this lesson over with. “Busy. Competitive. Haggling. Greed. Money,” he reeled off. “Now what?”

“Slow down. Poetry demands contemplation.” Akatsuki had been piecing together a concept, but she wasn’t a genius! She watched the flock of Adventurers on the street below them and ignored Kakashi fidgeting beside her. 

Finally, the sense and syllables Akatsuki wanted to convey clicked into place, so she spoke: 

“Bright-garbed swallows

Dive for first scattered fruits

A coin glints sharply.”

When she finished, she let silence fall so Kakashi could think, and Akatsuki fervently hoped she hadn’t messed up her on-the-spot creation with an out of season kigo or something. Poetry had always been something she enjoyed, but Akatsuki had never shared her own attempts outside of school assignments. They were private. 

Life with an apprentice, Akatsuki was learning, was not so private. Suddenly, she was trying to communicate more than she ever had in her life. Akatsuki had been told over and over that she was not good at communication, particularly in relation to her emotions. 

This was a characteristic that Kakashi appeared to share with her. 

Traditional haiku forms had always appealed to Akatsuki for the way they dealt with emotions. A writer removed themself from the haiku, and emotions were only implied by the play of words. The forms and oblique emotional angles allowed her emotional outlet in ways she struggled to articulate otherwise. The rawness of direct acknowledgement of emotions was too overwhelming. 

Akatsuki knew that Kakashi was struggling emotionally too. He was channeling most of it into his ninja training, but that training was for the most part, physical. It did not usually force him to contemplate what he was feeling. Despite her own ineptitude, Akatsuki knew this was not healthy. She wanted to give Kakashi some outlet, a less painful way to confront his own feelings. 

“What feelings did the words evoke? What do they tell us about this scene, or about us who chose them?” 

“But there are too many things to think about! How can you say them all? How can I catch all of them? Kigo and allusion and metaphor and On and feelings - there are just more and more things!” 

“Kakashi-kun, you are still learning! Learning is- emotions are-” Akatsuki floundered. A snippet came to mind. 

“The first mists-

One mountain after another,

Unveiled. (Chiyo-ni)

“Gaining knowledge, learning, lifts the mist which clouds our sight,” concluded Akatsuki. “Sometimes, that means there is more unexplored territory before us.” 

They sat side by side, looking out over the meandering streets of Akiba. For a long time, neither of them spoke. It was once again Kakashi who broke the silence, though not in a way that Akatsuki expected. Akatsuki knew immediately that the tanka was not one he had written. It had the cadence of something carefully memorized by rote, without full understanding. 

“Cold crows mob a bird,

Broken-winged and lonely cries-

The nest, undisturbed. 

Young grass, buried in winter

Shelters from the raging storm.” 

Akatsuki did not ask where he had learned it, or who had written it. She did not need to. 

Akatsuki had always kept it carefully hidden, but her most well-thumbed book of poetry was a collection of jisei - death poems. She had poured over these poems in honor of men and women whose lives held so much more weight than her own, but still spoke of mono no aware in every line. It was a twisted sort of yearning, wanting to be taken more seriously, but comforted by the fleetingness of life, even for the great and powerful. 

Hatake Sakumo had not been a samurai. Ninja, by most lore, were not particularly educated. But something reminded Akatsuki of Hattori Hanzo, who was both samurai and ninja - she thought Hatake Sakumo might take after him. It would not have been strange for such a man to leave behind a jisei-ei. 

So Akatsuki knew a jisei-ei when she heard one. These were the last words of a man who was choosing to die, yet held a hope that his son would live on. 

She held her tongue. Kakashi was carefully following the cracks in the roof tiles below them with his eyes. 

“I… I want to understand.” Kakashi spoke softly. “I don’t know what he was trying to say. But I want to.” 

There was something aching in Akatsuki’s eyes and chest. Slowly, she wrapped her arm around Kakashi’s shoulder. She lightly ruffled the hair on the side of his head. 

“I’ll always help you, Kakashi-kun.” 

***

“Just tell me the answer!” Kakashi demanded.

“Poetry is a way of looking at the world. If I just tell you, it’s worthless. Contemplate!” Akatsuki was implacable. 

Kakashi whined. “Why is it so hard…” 

“No adversity 

Halts the devoted student 

-only three-day monks.” 

“Hey!” 

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually a writing prompt I did based on a book of daily Tao meditations, which I quoted from in the entry notes. And then it exploded. 
> 
> So uh. I did a lot of spontaneous research about Japanese poetry while writing for this prompt and found a ton of things that they don’t teach you about haiku in your standard American High School Lit Class. Go figure. Down the rabbit hole we went!
> 
> Kakashi’s comment about “ponds and frogs” (not the flower bit) is a reference to the extremely famous haiku by Japanese poet Bashō. 
> 
> All Haiku/poems recited here are actually my own creation, except the one Akatsuki recites by Chiyo-ni. My Japanese is crap so I couldn’t write them in Japanese but I tried to use the guidelines from [this one site](https://www.tofugu.com/japan/haiku/) because it was the best breakdown I’ve ever read. The last one breaks a lot of haiku “rules” including kigo tbh but Akatsuki wanted the extra salt. Instead it utilizes a Japanese idiom, mikka bouzu, or a “three-day monk” - someone who picks up a new cause/hobby/resolution, only to drop it after a short time or when things get difficult. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome… on either characterization or flow or my amateur haiku writing lol 


End file.
